Heroes Genesis
by andrewjameswilliams
Summary: AU Thunderbirds. A traumatic watershed event starts Jeff Tracy on a path that will change his and the lives of his family forever.
1. Prologue

**Heroes Genesis**

Authors Note: This story is the start of an AU version of Thunderbirds.

-----

**Prologue**

**February 2035**

The cemetery was cold, bleak and windswept; a biting, bitterly cold wind that felt like it came right from the North Pole itself blew right across it.

Jeff Tracy stood facing a new grave, looking at the tombstone and the freshly turned, partially frozen soil that lay in front of it. Though he was bundled up warm against the typically bitter cold day, the biting wind ripped right through his multiple layers to chill him to the bone. Still Jeff paid it no mind, even as it stole the moisture from his lips and cheeks that were red from the cold and streaked with the trails of his tears. He ignored the aching in his lungs from breathing in the frigid air, it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. A pain that had been there since he had been told of the terrible, fatal accident that had claimed his beloved's life, a pain that seemed like it was never going to stop, a pain that was slowly tearing him apart.

Instead Jeff just looked at the grave, the grave stone was a simple block with writing engraved in gold, just as Lucille had specified in her living room, even the funeral service had been simple. As she had requested as Jeff recalled that Lucille had never gone in for anything overly ornate or extravagant. Lucille has preferred to keep things practical and simple. An attitude and taste further entrenched and pronounced by the austerity of the years of shortages and hardships brought about by the global energy crises that had only relatively recently ended.

Reading Lucille's name and the dates of her birth and death on the cold, unfeeling stone Jeff felt his eyes burn again as the grief welled up inside him again.

"Why," he screamed his throat already raw from having screamed and cried so much in recent days. "Why did you have to leave me, leave our boys?" There was naturally no reply from the stone, or from the departed soul of the dead woman who had been the other half of his soul. Fate and death were cruel like that.

Blind, burning rage filled Jeff for a moment and unable to restrain himself he kicked the ground hard. Then the rage was gone and the grief returned full force. Crumpling to his knees Jeff burst into tears again, deep broken sobs shaking his fit and powerful frame.

Eventually Jeff crumpled over onto his side and drew himself up into a foetal position. No longer having the energy to cry or even to try and stand Jeff just lay there with the bitter wind the only companion for his shattered heart. Slowly his eyes drifted closed.

-----

He saw whiteness, endless pure whiteness. The whiteness was warm and all pervasive; there was nothing but the whiteness and a faint ethereal music that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Music that was more beautiful and melodic that anything he had ever heard in his life before.

Finding that he was somehow standing up Jeff turned in place hoping to see something. But he saw nothing, nothing but the warm whiteness. _What is this place,_ Jeff thought, _have I died as well?_

"Am I dead," he said aloud.

"No my love," a beautiful, achingly familiar voice said from behind him. "It is not your time yet."

Startled but delighted Jeff spun around and there she was, standing right in front of him. Lucille was dressed in a long, flowing white robe embroidered with delicate patterns in a golden thread. The colour of the thread almost matching her long blond hair which was hanging loosely down her back, gleaming like a river of liquid gold.

"Lucille," Jeff said softly not quite believing it was her. _I must be hallucinating,_ Jeff thought even as Lucille smiled, the same smile that had long ago stolen his heart in a way that nothing else, not even space had been able to do.

"Yes Jeff it's me," Lucille replied. "No you're not hallucinating I am here, after a fashion."

"Where are we?" Jeff asked reaching out to touch his wife as he had many times, only to feel heartbreaking disappointment as his hand passed right through her body with only some slight resistance. Sadly Jeff pulled his hand back, realising that he could no more touch her than he could touch a hologram.

"You can't touch me Jeff," Lucille said softly. "As much as you might want to, only your mind is here not your soul. To answer your question the best way to describe where we are is a kind of halfway house that exists between the mortal world and the immortal world beyond the veil of death."

"So I'm not dead then."

"No your journey in the mortal world is not over yet, though at the moment that journey is in danger of ending prematurely."

"Why did you leave me? Leave our boys? How could do that to us?" The words came out angrier than Jeff intended, drawing force from the tremendous agony that currently gripped his soul. Lucille didn't even bristle though she smiled sadly and Jeff could tell that she had been expecting the outburst to come sooner or later.

"You have every right to be angry; I would be if our positions were reversed. Believe me when I tell you that I didn't want to leave you Jeff, or our boys. But it was my time; my journey in the mortal world is over, though yours must continue."

"How can I go on without you beside me Lucille? I can't do it, not without you."

"Yes you can Jeff and you must for you still have much to do before your own journey ends. But know this I will always be with you, watching you and the boys. I will always be in your heart until your mortal journey ends and our souls can be together again for the rest of eternity."

"What will I do? How will I live? I can't go on like I did before you…"

"Before I died," Lucille finished for him. "No you can't but I cannot answer those questions for you my love. You will have to find the answers on your own as they will direct your destiny and it is only you alone who controls that."

"My fate is in my hands."

"Precisely. I must leave you now my love, time works differently here you cannot stay much longer. But before I go will you promise me something Jeff?"

"Anything."

"Promise me that you will go on with your life. There is nothing wrong with the grief you feel at the moment, it is perfectly natural, just don't let it fester, don't let it dominate your life."

For a moment Jeff paused, he wasn't sure that he could do what his wife asked of him. If he could get past his heartbreak and pain to go on with his life without her by his side. Lucille had been his rock for so long, the one he could turn to when he was uncertain, going on without her would be incredibly difficult. But he knew somehow that she was right, he had to go on with his life not only for his sake, but for the sake of their sons and Lucille's own memory.

"I, I promise I will try. It will be so hard," he said at last, which earned him a smile from Lucille.

"I know my love, and to try is all I can ask of you," Lucille answered and put her hand on Jeff's cheek and to his amazement Jeff faintly felt her touch. It wasn't much more like the echo of a sensation but it warmed and comforted him nevertheless. "If it helps remember I will always be with you, even though you won't see me. Always remember that I love you Jeff."

"I love you too Lucille. I always will."

Lucille smiled at him one last time, and then she turned transparent before vanishing altogether. Around Jeff the all pervasive whiteness began to fade away as well, darkening until there was nothing but blackness. Jeff sighed and closed his eyes as a curious lightness filled him. Then he knew no more.

-----

Jeff gasped softly as consciousness returned with a sharp jolt almost like an electric shock. Slowly he opened his eyes to find himself looking up at a familiar ceiling, a ceiling he knew very well indeed. It was the ceiling of his bedroom in the big farmhouse that had been in his family since they had first immigrated to America from England centuries before. _Did I dream all that,_ Jeff wondered, _was that weird white place all a dream? Or did it really happen, did I really see her?_

"Dad," a hesitant sounding voice – that it took Jeff's still groggy mind a few seconds to recognise as belonging to his oldest son – said. Looking in the direction the voice had come from Jeff saw that Scott was sitting in a chair beside the bed. As soon as their eyes met Jeff saw a look of relief and delight appear in Scott's expressive blue eyes.

"Dad you're awake," Scott said. Jeff nodded already deciding that he was going to play dumb about what had happened to him, he wasn't sure he believed it himself yet, but he knew Scott would never believe him.

"Scott what happened? How did I get back here?" Scott looked at his father carefully, he could tell that Jeff knew something but didn't want to say. For a moment he contemplated asking his father what that something was but decided against it. He would never get an answer from Jeff unless he was willing to give it, only their mother had been able to do otherwise.

"When you didn't come back after the funeral we went out looking for you," Scott explained playing along. "Grandpa found you collapsed unconscious next to mom's grave, he brought you back here. We called the doctor but he couldn't find anything wrong with you, you were just unconscious. That was three days ago."

"Three days," Jeff repeated stunned. "Oh God I'm sorry Scott, I didn't mean to make any of you worry."

"Its okay Dad, it's not anything you could control. I'm just glad you're awake now. I have to go and tell everyone else. Will you be okay while I do that Dad? Do you want anything?" Jeff thought for a moment and realised that his throat was as dry as the Sahara desert. But then was understandable after being asleep for three days.

"A drink would be nice Scott," Jeff answered at last. "Water preferably."

"Alright I'll get you some water," Scott replied standing up. "I'll be right back Dad."

Jeff nodded and watched as Scott left the room. Once his eldest was gone Jeff looked around the room trying to wrap his head around the fact that three days of his life had simply vanished. After a moment his eyes fell on a photograph of Lucille and strangely the photo seemed to begin to glow with an unearthly white light and Jeff knew what had happened. He hadn't dreamed that strange white place or the meeting with his wives spirit, it had really happened. _I'll keep my promise Lucille,_ he thought, _I will find away to go on with my life until the day comes when my soul again joins with yours._

For a moment the Lucille in the photo seemed to smile at him, and then the glow vanished leaving an inert image behind glass. Jeff smiled softly then lay back in bed to wait for Scott to return. Silently he vowed to himself that he would find away to keep his promise to Lucille. How he was going to do it he didn't know but he knew Lucille was right and that he would find away. He had to.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Tracy Industries Headquarters**

**New York**

**February 2036**

Jeff Tracy smiled as he pored over the progress report his aerospace arm's research and development department had submitted. They were making good progress in finding a way to power long range commercial aircraft without depending on now-extinct fossil fuels. It was slow going, but Jeff didn't mind. He knew this task – bringing back commercial airliners was a very tough one.

Commercial airliners had vanished from the skies of the world sixteen years ago – during the deep dark days of the energy crises. That was the point when global fossil fuel reserves were no longer capable of meeting demand. The air travel industry with its massive fleets of aircraft had been the first to suffer. Even with the return of the airship it had not recovered. Airships - while energy efficient - were slow. It took two days to make the flight from London to New York. The only other way of flying now was a helijet but they lacked the capability for decent long range travel.

Developing a fast, fuel efficient airliner was the only way to help that industry recover from the energy crisis – a job easier said than done. _If only the military would stop interfering. Then my researchers would find it a little bit easier,_ Jeff thought, sighing softly.

The Pentagon was constantly interfering with any research to bring back the commercial airliner. They were worried someone would find a way to adapt the same kind of microfusion power cells used in jet fighters to power an airliner. The Pentagon complained that research in the commercial use of microfusion power cells was jeopardising America's national security. They conveniently ignored the fact that fusion power was now widespread and many nations utilized that type of power in military aircraft. Jeff's opinion was that far too many of the Armed Forces top brass were mired in America's past, when the U.S had the best military technology – something that was no longer the case.

A soft beeping sound from his desk communications unit made Jeff jump. Sighing, Jeff put the electronic file down and pressed a button on the offending device.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Excuse me for disturbing you, sir, but Jason Peterson from the NTSB is here to see you," the voice of his secretary, Ms Parks, replied.

Jeff blinked, startled by the name. Jason Peterson was one of the National Transport Safety Board team investigating the horrific train crash last year – the one that had claimed Lucille among many others. Remembering how she died, Jeff again felt the deep pain that came from the hole her death had ripped in his heart and soul. It never really went away. He especially felt it in the morning when he would wake and, in his initial sleep fogged state, would search for her, confused, wondering where she was. Then he would remember that she was gone, and feel the sharp stab of reality: he was alone. Not even knowing that Lucille was watching him from beyond the grave really helped to banish the aching loneliness.

"Mr Tracy," Ms Parks voice prompted from the intercom, and Jeff blinked, suddenly realising that he'd gotten lost in that deep gulf of pain again.

_Can't go there now,_ he thought, _not when there's work to be done._ He took a deep breath to control the shudder in his voice and said. "Send him in Ms Parks."

"Yes sir."

"And Ms Parks? Call Virgil up here. Something tells me he will need to hear this, too."

"Yes sir." The intercom clicked off. Sighing, Jeff leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

For a moment he stayed like that taking deep, slow breaths to completely regain his composure. He refused, point blank, to let anyone outside his family see how much he still suffered. He'd hide it from the family if they'd let him, focusing instead on helping the boys live without Lucille there to turn to and talk to. It wasn't easy. She had been such an integral part of their lives. Living without her was very hard on all of them.

The door of his office opened. Jeff roused and sat up straight as Jason Peterson – carrying a briefcase and dressed in a smart, sleek business suit – entered the room.

"Mr Peterson, this is a surprise." Jeff rose to shake Jason's hand as the latter crossed the large office. He gestured to a chair, then returned to his own. "Please, take a seat. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Hello Mr Tracy," Jason replied as he accepted the offered seat. "I'm afraid its business that has brought me here today."

"I guessed as much. Are you here about the accident investigation?" Jeff asked. Jason nodded. "I thought so," Jeff responded. "We'd better wait for Virgil before we go into that."

"That's fine, Mr Tracy."

"Would you like some coffee? A cup of tea?"

"Yes please. Coffee, cream and two sugars."

Jeff smiled and got to his feet to fix the drink. It was odd for someone in his position to do such a menial task, but the simple normality of it would distract him from the reason Jason was there, at least, while they waited for Virgil.

**

* * *

Five Minutes Later**

Virgil Tracy stepped off the lift onto the hundred and tenth floor of the Tracy Industries skyscraper with a puzzled frown on his handsome face. Navigating his way towards his father's office from memory he couldn't help but wonder why his father had suddenly asked for him to come up here.

He had been hard at work sixty floors below assisting the team that was designing a new longer range helijet when Ms Parks had called down. She had told him that his father needed him in his office, while she hadn't said more Virgil had clearly heard in her voice that it was something both personal and important. That had been more than enough for him to know, after tending his apologies to Derek and the rest of the team he had come straight up.

Arriving in the small anteroom before his father's office Virgil smiled when he saw Jennifer Parks hard at work on her desk computer.

"Hi Jennifer," Virgil said still smiling.

Jennifer Parks looked up from what she was doing and smiled at Virgil. Like many of her friends who worked here she liked Virgil Tracy a lot. Not just because the former college and university football star had a gorgeous physique that most men would die for. But because he was generally a kind and pleasant person to be around. Jennifer often wished she could go on a date with Virgil but she knew full well that Virgil didn't go on dates, with girls anyway.

"Hi Virgil," she said at last.

"So what's up," Virgil asked.

"A Mr Jason Peterson from the NTSB arrived to see your father," Jennifer replied. As she said that Virgil felt a chill go down his spine and a premonition about the nature of Mr Peterson's visit filled his mind.

"I see," Virgil replied with a hollow feeling in his stomach. "I'll go in there now then. Jennifer I would advise that you be prepared to cancel any meetings or appointments that Dad has this afternoon. Something tells me that neither of us is going to be good for anything after this."

"Already arranged," Jennifer answered. "Good luck in there."

"Thanks," Virgil replied before stepping up to the door to his father's office. Taking a deep breath to steel himself against what he believed was coming he pushed open the door and went into the office.

"Ah Virgil good," Jeff said seeing his second born son coming in. "Please come and sit down. Mr Peterson here has something to tell us."

"About the accident," Virgil asked sitting down in one of the seats opposite his father. He already suspected what the answer was going to be – why else would someone from the NTSB be here – but he wanted it to be confirmed by someone.

"Yes it is about the accident Virgil," Jeff replied. Though his father's voice was outwardly calm and controlled Virgil wasn't fooled. He saw through his fathers mask and knew that his father was just as apprehensive about this meeting as him. "Do you want to get a drink before we start?"

"No I'm fine Dad."

"Alright, okay Mr Peterson please tell us exactly what this is about? We have already submitted statements to the NTSB on a number of occasions."

Jason Peterson nodded and picked up his briefcase and unlocked it before beginning to speak. He would need to get something out of his briefcase very soon now.

"As you are aware Mr Tracy I have been part of the team investigating the fatal train crash in the Colorado Rockies last year," he began. "The investigation into the cause of the crash and the reason why so many of those onboard died has been concluded. Our report into the accident is ready to be published; it will officially be released to the public two days from now. But before that we are giving the families of those involved a copy of our findings so you have time to read over them before being swept up into the media storm."

As he finished speaking Jason opened his briefcase, reached inside and took out two slim plastic boxes. Boxes that contained one high-compression read only data card each.

"There is a copy of the report on each of these data cards," he said putting the carrier boxes down on the desk. "Colleagues of mine are delivering copies to the rest of your family and all the others affected by the disaster as we speak."

"I see," Jeff replied picking up one of the boxes and holding it almost reverently as he knew it contained the thing he had desperately wanted for the last year; answers. Answers as to why that train – a train so advanced and modern that an accident should have been impossible – had crashed. Answers as to why and how his soul mate and so many others had perished in the disaster. Yet now that he held the answers in his hand he found that he scared to find out what they were. Why he was scared Jeff wasn't quite sure, he just was. As it was he knew reading the report would bring a lot of the pain, a lot of the grief back. But it was necessary to know the answers to provide a sense of closure, only with that could he keep his promise to his wives spirit and go on with his life.

"This will take sometime to read in depth," Jeff said after a few moments of silence. "Would you mind giving us a quick summary of the findings Mr Peterson?"

"Certainly Mr Tracy," Jason replied. He took a drink of his coffee then he began to talk, spelling out in a concise a form as possible what exactly they had found during the course of their long and very thorough investigation into the crash.

**

* * *

Twelve Minutes Later**

Silence reigned supreme in Jeff Tracy's office. But it was not a comfortable silence but a deep, brooding, oppressive silence as Virgil and Jeff sat still lost in there own thoughts. Jason had just finished detailing the NTSB's findings and both Tracy's were thinking hard about what had been said to them, what had been revealed. It was almost impossible to believe but they knew that it was true.

It was a truth that was hard to bear, hard to comprehend, let alone understand. The train crash that had claimed Lucille Tracy's life had been caused by a catastrophic failure of the trains breaking systems. Both the primary and secondary breaking systems – each independent of the other – had been frozen in the unlocked position. The two systems had been controlled by the trains computer system as modern trains relied heavily on computer control. One of the many computer viruses currently making the rounds on the Internet had somehow gotten into the trains computer and damaged several programs including the power control system. Records retrieved from the trains data recorder showed that several minutes before the crash there had been a rouge power surge through the engine of the train. A power surge that had somehow fried both the break control system and the sensors that monitored them. The surge was minor and hadn't been noticed as more than a blip on the drivers screen, else there would have still been chance to evade disaster with the emergency hand operated breaks in the engine and carriages.

As it was the train had kept going but without the ability to slow down or stop. The train had come off the tracks at a sharp bend and plunged twenty metres down an embankment before slamming into the valley floor below. The driver and the people in the first coach had died instantly as both the engine and the front coach were reduced to little more than mangled wreckage. Even then the engines emergency GPS locator beacon while had damaged came on, summoning help. The other carriages – including the carriage Lucille had been in – had survived, damaged without windows and with sections of crumpled metal but largely intact. The high tech safety systems had prevented the passengers suffering serious injuries.

But it was then that the next phase of the catastrophe began to take place. The freezing air of the mountains had been barely half a degree above freezing as winter hadn't yet released its grip. The bitterly cold wind had chilled the air even further so the temperature had actually been about five degrees below freezing. With the windows smashed and no power for the heaters the surviving people on the train had had absolutely no protection from the savage elements of nature. By the time rescue workers arrived at the scene of the crash – having had to come by poor, barely clear forestry service roads. The only two emergency helijets in the area had been trapped in Denver by a bad storm that had made flying them impossible – four hours had passed. All bar twelve people on the train had been dead, frozen to death, and two of those still alive had died later in hospital while the others suffered bad frostbite.

The report had concluded that had Denver's emergency helijets been able to fly, or had some of the chronically under funded ranger stations in the area possessed either helijets or helicopters retrofitted with hydrogen fuel cells, then the disaster would not have been as bad as it was. While nearly a hundred people would have still been dead the rest of the people on the train would have survived.

"Are there any questions Mr Tracy," Jason asked breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen upon the room.

"No," Jeff replied his voice shaking a little with barely suppressed emotions. Renewed grief at his soul mates death, anger at the fact that she'd frozen to death and that she and the others who had died could have survived the disaster and still had been here with him had the rescue services been better equipped. There deaths had been unnecessary but funding for groups like the forestry service had not really been increased from the reduced level they had been at during the massive economic depression that the energy crisis had spawned. Certainly it wasn't enough to refit helicopters with hydrogen fuel cells or afford many helijets. It galled Jeff that the politicians and accountants in government hadn't thought about that kind of thing. They were so concerned with big prestige ventures and rebuilding the military that they hadn't though about updating the technology available to emergency services.

"Then I will take my leave Mr Tracy," Jason said locking his briefcase and standing up.

"I'll show you out," Jeff replied standing up and coming around his desk before leading Jason out of the room.

Alone in the office now for a few moments at least Virgil stood up and made his way over to a partially walled off sitting area. Virgil walked right across it as if drawn by something before standing still and looking at a painting mounted on the wall. One he himself had painted last year.

The painting was of himself and his brothers back dropped against the big red barn on their grandparent's ranch. He'd started working on it the day before their mother had left to go on that fateful trip. She'd never seen it as more than a few guiding outlines with the odd first wash of colour here and there, never seen the finished masterpiece though he knew she'd wanted to, and would have liked it very much.

"I miss you mom," Virgil said as he began to shake as the emotional numbness that he had felt for the last twenty minutes wore off and reaction began to set in. He'd been extremely close to his mother, closer than any of his siblings; they had shared many of the same interests and hobbies. It had been his mother who'd taught him how to paint and how to play the piano. When he'd wanted to develop a new idea for a new painting of piece of music it had always been mom that he'd spoken to. He felt her loss strongly, almost as badly as dad did. To learn now that she need not have died made the loss that little bit worse, that bit harder to bear.

A hand abruptly landed on his right shoulder and Virgil jumped slightly before turning his head. To see that his father had returned and was standing beside him and looking at him in concern and understanding.

"I miss her Dad," he said his voice like his body shaking with barely suppressed emotions.

"I know son," Jeff replied. "I miss her to."

"And to hear that, to h…h…here that mom need not have…" Virgil's voice trailed off and he looked down as his fragile composure disintegrated and a sob was wrenched from his lungs as his eyes burned with unshed tears.

Hearing his son sob Jeff physically turned Virgil to face him before pulling him into a comforting embrace. The action opened the floodgates. In seconds Virgil was crying full force into his jacket, the whole of Virgil's powerful, muscular form shaking with anguished heartbroken sobs. Jeff felt his own eyes begin to burn and in less than a minute he too was crying, weeping out his grief and rage at Lucille's needless death.

Finally after what seemed like ages but was in reality about ten minutes the tears and sobs of the two Tracy's subsided. Jeff and Virgil continued to cling to each other in mutual support for another few minutes before Jeff broke the embrace.

"Come on Virgil," Jeff said. "Let's go back to the apartment and make preparations to go to the ranch for a few days."

"What about Gordon?" Virgil asked. His copper haired younger brother was just starting a month's shore leave from the Navy while the submarine he was assigned to the USS _Swordfish_ underwent some maintenance work on its engines. They had been due to meet up after work today and go for a meal.

"We'll call him and get him to meet us at the apartment," Jeff replied heading back into the main area of his office. "He knows where it is. Plus I have to call John and Alan and arrange for them to get to the ranch."

"True," Virgil agreed as he followed his father and watched as he picked up the boxes that data cards. "We can do all that from the apartment."

"Yes," Jeff answered as he put the boxes in his pockets before picking up his coat. "So let's get going."

"Okay Dad. We'll need to nip by my office downstairs first so I can pick up my coat and briefcase."

"No problem. It won't take long to pick those up. Lead the way Virgil."

Virgil nodded and led the way out of the office towards the lifts. Despite the situation he smiled slightly at the knowledge that he would soon be with all his brothers in the warm comfort of their grandparents farmhouse on the ranch that had been the home of the Tracy's for two centuries. They were definitely going to need each others strength and support for the next few days as they came to terms with the findings of the investigation into the accident that took their mother from them. _We'll have to come to terms with the findings,_ he thought, _but it will be hard for us, it will be so very hard._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Central Railway Station**

**Bently, Kansas**

**Three Days Later**

Scott Tracy resisted the impulse to pace impatiently as he waited in the busy main concourse for Alan and John's train from Florida to arrive. All the while he quietly inwardly cursed the intransigent, insensitive authorities that were responsible for the two blond haired Tracy son's being late getting home so they could all support each other through the emotional trauma they were all suffering. Trauma that had been rekindled and reinforced by the publication of the report into the accident that had claimed there mothers life.

The authorities at the college in Florida that Alan was attending doing advanced degree's in computers and aerospace engineering had been awkward and downright insensitive when Alan had been given his copy of the report by an NTSB official. They had point blank refused to allow him to leave classes until yesterday when the report had been officially published. It hadn't registered with or even mattered to the pen pushers in the college's admin section that Alan had been too upset by the reports findings to attend and take part in classes properly. They'd just been thinking about numbers and keeping there precious spreadsheets looking good, they'd viewed Alan as a number, not a person. Understanding and compassion for another human being who was hurting hadn't entered into there cold, analytical minds.

Scott sighed to himself and pushed down his anger and outrage at the way his youngest brother had been treated. It wouldn't do to be all uptight and angry when he saw Alan and John again, he would end up snapping at them and he knew they didn't deserve that. They'd done nothing wrong. Though they would understand his anger, as they and the whole family shared it, they were all outraged by what had happened. The one who was most annoyed though was Dad, Scott knew that he had already written and sent a strongly worded, scathing letter of complaint to the school authorities.

Scott grinned as he found himself suddenly wishing he could be a fly on the office wall when that letter was received. The reactions of those cold hearted bureaucrats when they realised that they had gone and really annoyed one of the richest men in the world would be so interesting to see. _They'll probably be falling over themselves to apologise,_ Scott thought grinning knowing that Dad would not be satisfied with a simple apology from them. The administrators had really gotten his ire up, someone would have to pay the price for such cold hearted, uncaring behaviour.

Scott glanced up at one of the screens that showed arrivals and departure times. He smiled when he saw that his brother's train was due to pull into the station in another two minutes. _Not long now,_ Scott thought.

**

* * *

Transcontinental Train**

**Approaching Bently Station**

Alan Tracy looked up from his book as he felt the train decelerating. _Must be approaching a station,_ he thought before glancing out the window. A smile appeared on his handsome baby face features as the saw the familiar skyline of Bently passing by outside. _Almost home,_ he thought, _another hour or so and we'll be back at the farmhouse._

Alan closed his book and returned it to his backpack before reaching over and gently shaking John's shoulder. His older brother had fallen asleep about an hour ago, which was a good thing as far as he was concerned. Neither of them had gotten enough sleep over the last few days.

"John wakes up," Alan said softly. John groaned softly in his sleep bit didn't stir from it. _He's gone off real heavy,_ Alan thought before shaking John's shoulder a little bit harder. He felt awful guilty about having to wake John but he had no choice in the matter. "John."

John snorted and opened his eyes sleepily. After a moment he yawned and stretched slightly, his elbow almost bashing into Alan's shoulder, before giving his younger brother a curious look. _What did he wake me up for,_ John wondered though he knew it would be a good reason. Alan had long gotten past the stage where he would wake someone up just to have someone to talk to. Give either himself or Alan a book on a long journey and they would quite happily disappear into it, losing themselves in the story.

"Sorry to wake you John," Alan said apologetically. "But we're coming into Bently station."

"Oh right. Thanks I didn't want to sleep past this place, whoever's come for us would be major grumpy if I did," John replied as the train came into the station and came to a halt at one of the platforms. Alan laughed softly.

"True," he agreed. "They'd be grumpy at you for sleeping past the station and grumpy at me for letting you."

John smiled and stood up, being careful not to hit his head on the overhead baggage rack in the process even as he stepped out into the isle. At six foot six he was by far the tallest of the Tracy's only Uncle Peter matched him for height, so he had to watch his head in places like this. After retrieving their cases from the rack he stood aside to allow Alan out and smiled when he saw Alan also being careful not to bang his head. Alan was six foot four and like him had to be careful in such places.

"Come on lets get off this train before it decides to pull out," Alan said grinning. John grinned back and nodded and let Alan lead the way down the isle towards the doors.

"I wonder whose come to meet us," John said as they disembarked, both shivering in the cold air which struck both of them with shocking force. _But then we've got used to Florida,_ John thought, _we've almost forgotten what its like to be cold._

"My guess would be Scott," Alan replied as they headed for the bridge that crossed three platforms before depositing them in the main building. "Burr its cold out here but then it is winter and were both used to Florida."

"Which is never cold so we notice the cold back here more," John agreed with a smile as they stepped into the warmth of the main building and headed for the automated ticket barriers between them and the main concourse.

**

* * *

Main Concourse**

Scott smiled when he saw Alan and John appear near the ticket barriers. Though the approach to the ticket barriers was crammed full of people his brothers were easy to spot because they were so tall. Especially John, he towered over everyone around him with ease.

Scott waited until his younger brothers were through the ticket barriers before waving a hand to attract their attention. A grin appeared on his face when Alan and John locked onto his wave hand and homed in on him like a pair of seeker missiles.

"Hi guys," Scott said as they reached him.

"Hi Scott," Alan replied just beating John to the punch. "Your looking well working on the farm and ranch seems to agree with you."

"Yeah well it's not the air force but its okay," Scott answered smiling. "Certainly helps me get back in shape after my ugh experience."

Alan and John both nodded knowing what Scott was referring to. It was the experience that had ended what had been a promising career with the slowly recovering US air force. Scott had been sent to the Middle East as part of a UN peacekeeping operation six years ago after a fundamentalist Islamic regime ceased power in Iraq. When a brief war had erupted between Iraq and Israel the UN had tried to intervene and come under fire. Scott had been shot down, captured and tortured to within an inch of his life by the Iraqi regime.

By the time Scott had been rescued he had been only just clinging to his sanity, his normal strength and dignity gone leaving him an almost broken shell of a man. He'd been soon diagnosed as suffering from severe post traumatic stress and been given an honourable medical discharge from the military. It had taken a very long time for Scott to recover both physically and mentally from his experience, he had almost taken his own life at one point, the recovery had taken years. As it was even now Scott was still weary of going to the beach or park and taking his shirt off in public, he didn't like showing the scars he carried especially on his back.

"Well are we going to stand here all day," Scott said breaking the moody silence that had started to descend on them as they remembered that painful experience that to this day still periodically gave him nightmares.

"No let's go home," John replied. "Where's the car Scott?"

"This way," Scott answered as he started leading the way out of the train station. "How was your trip guys?"

"All right," Alan replied. "Just long though it helped that we both had new books to read, made the time pass quite quickly."

"Made the time fly," John agreed. "How is everyone at home Scott?"

"As well as can be expected," Scott replied. "Have you two read the reports yet?"

"Not in detail we wanted to be home before we did that," Alan answered as they reached the car. Though Alan's voice was calm Scott clearly heard an emotional shudder in it. Alan was obviously only just holding onto his composure and Scott didn't have to look at John to know he would be the same.

"I understand," Scott replied unlocking the car. "Climb in guys we'll be home soon."

Without speaking Alan and John climbed into the car. It did not escape Scott's notice that they both sat in the back so they could comfort each other if they needed to, he nodded approvingly even as he got into the drivers seat.

"Buckle up guys," he said fastening his seatbelt before starting the engine, filling the car with a soft thrumming sound as the hydrogen fuel cell supplied power to the electric motors that drove the wheels. He watched through the rear view mirror as his siblings buckled up, then he reversed out of the parking bay before starting them on the final phase of the journey home.

**

* * *

Tracy Farm And Ranch**

**Sometime Later**

Grant Tracy looked worriedly at where his only son sat looking at the flickering flames in the open fireplace. Jeff had been very quiet since he had arrived here with Virgil and Gordon two days ago. He was barely speaking to anyone and seemed to be spending large periods of time on his own in his old bedroom. Everyone was worried about him as it wasn't like Jeff to be this quiet and withdrawn from everyone, this was even worse than he had been in those first terrible days and weeks after Lucille had died.

"Jeff," Grant said trying to get his sons attention but Jeff showed no sign of even being aware that he was in the room. "Jeff," Grant said more forcefully this time.

This time Jeff reacted to his name being called. Blinking he looked away from the flickering flames and was surprised to see his father in the room with him, he hadn't heard him come in.

"Sorry Dad I didn't here you come in," he said apologetically. "Were you trying to talk to me?"

"I would like to talk to you Jeff," Grant said moving over to his favourite armchair and collapsing down into it. "I'm worried about you, so is your mother and everyone else. You've been very quiet and withdraw since you arrived."

"Have I?" Jeff replied looking back at the fire and feeling its waves of warm heat breaking against his face.

Grant frowned in concern; it was obvious that something was very wrong with his son. He was no genius but he didn't have to be to know what was responsible for Jeff's current behaviour. It was the NTSB report, it had brought all the pain and anger about Lucille's death and amplified it, and it was those emotions that were dragging Jeff down. Pushing him towards a deep dark place filled with depression and despair, a place Jeff had been periodically skirting dangerously close to a few times over the last year, but now Grant feared that Jeff was about to fall into that abyss. If he did then god only knew how long it would take them to get him out of it again.

"It's the report isn't it," he said at last. "Come on Jeff talk to me, don't bottle it up inside. That would not do you any good."

For a few moments Jeff didn't answer, just sat there looking at the flames slowly consuming the logs in the fireplace. Finally though he did speak, but in a voice that was so quiet that Grant could barely hear it.

"What good would it do," Jeff said. "It won't bring her back, it won't change anything. Nothing ever changes where these things are concerned."

"I know talking won't bring Lucille back, much as we all wish it could," Grant replied. "But what do you mean by nothing ever changes Jeff? What doesn't change?"

"The senseless dying," Jeff exploded pent up anger, grief and frustration suddenly filling his voice with fire. But Grant knew Jeff's wrath wasn't directed at him, instead it was at the world in general. "I've been doing some research on the Internet for the last few days," Jeff continued his voice tone still heated but he wasn't shouting now. "What I have found… it's appalling, disgraceful and no one cares or does anything about it."

"What have you found," Grant asked just as Virgil poked his head into the room having been drawn by the sound of his father shouting. Grant looked over at him and Virgil nodded – reading the silent message that they needed to be alone – and disappeared.

"That the chronic under funding of rescue and emergency services that contributed to Lucille's death is happening everywhere," Jeff replied his voice faltering as he mentioned his late wives name. "All over the world, these disasters happen and people die because of insufficient or outdated emergency equipment. Governments express shock and promise to do something they don't, as soon as the exact details fade from public consciousness they do nothing."

Inwardly Grant winced knowing that Jeff was most likely right. The energy crisis had devastated economies and militaries the world over and caused the worst global recession since the 1930's. Though the energy crisis had been over for a few years the political, economic and strategic shockwaves it had caused were being felt all around the world. Add to that there were now five superpowers in the world. It created a situation where things like adequately funding emergency services were very low on the list of priorities for the world's governments.

"Then don't let them do it this time Jeff," Grant said at last. "You've got factories and offices all over the world especially in the five big powers. I know you hate playing political games but the fact you have so many factories in so many nations gives you quiet a lot of political clout with them. Use it as it gives you more of a chance to change things then what private citizens have."

Jeff blinked and looked thoughtful at the suggestion. Grant got the distinct impression that it wasn't something that it wasn't something that had occurred to Jeff before. Which given his sons reluctance to use the political power that came with his immense wealth did not surprise Grant one bit.

"That's certainly an interesting idea," Jeff said after a moments thought. "I'll have to give it some serious thought. Thanks Dad I needed to get that off my chest."

"Anytime Jeff," Grant replied. "Anytime."

Jeff smiled and was about to reply when his sharp hearing picked up the sound of a car entering the farmyard. He couldn't hear the engine as modern cars powered as they were by hydrogen fuel cells made little sound, but he clearly heard the crunching of gravel as wheels ran over it.

"There's a car coming into the farmyard," he said.

"Scott must be back with Alan and John," Grant reasoned not surprised that Jeff had heard the car before him; Jeff had inherited his sharp hearing from his mother, Rose.

"No doubt, though they've made good time considering there is still so much snow about," Jeff replied standing up. "If you'll excuse me Dad I'm going to nip upstairs to freshen up before I see them."

"Sure Jeff go ahead."

Jeff smiled then left the living room and started up the stairs. _They really should get these fixed,_ he thought as some of the steps creaked under is as he ascended, even though he knew his parents would never get the creaky old steps replaced. The creaking served as a useful early warning system. They had caught him out many times when he'd been a kid and been trying to sneak downstairs when he should have been in bed. They'd been especially effective at Christmas when he'd been trying to see if Santa had been yet – usually at around four in the morning – he'd never once succeeded in getting down the stairs undetected.

Reaching the top of the stairs Jeff headed for the bathroom. He had almost reached it when a voice came from behind him.

"Virgil's in there a moment Dad," Gordon said. Jeff jumped and spun around as Gordon continued. "He's taking a dump so unless your desperate I'd stay out of there for a few minutes if I were you. You know how he stink's the place out."

"Hark whose talking," Jeff replied smiling and looking his six foot three copper haired forth son over. Though he was quiet pale from lack of being out in the open air - the USS _Swordfish_ spent months at a time underwater Gordon looked fit and strong, the disciplined life of the military agreeing with him completely. Something which never ceased to amaze Jeff as Gordon was a very high-spirited, independent minded young man with a penchant for practical jokes.

"True Dad," Gordon replied grinning a moment before they both heard the front door open. "Guess that's Scott with John and Alan. Are you going to come downstairs with me Dad?"

"Yes. I only wanted a quick wash."

"Okay then lets go." Jeff smiled at Gordon's enthusiasm about seeing his brothers – especially his partner in crime Alan – again.

"Lead on then Gordon," Jeff said. Gordon grinned in reply before turning around and heading for the stairs. Jeff followed a few paces behind him, quietly looking forward to having all his boys together again.

**

* * *

Scott's Car**

**A Few Moments Earlier**

John smiled when the large old farmhouse that had been home to many generations of Tracy's came into view. _Home at last,_ he thought as Scott parked the car, John idly noticed that their grandparents Land Rover was missing. _Someone must have gone out,_ he thought glancing over at Alan. John's smile turned into a grin when he saw that Alan was leaning against the door fast asleep.

"Alan," he said softly reaching out and shaking Alan's shoulder. "Alan wake up we're home." Alan snorted and opened his eyes before looking around in momentary confusion.

"What? Home?" he said getting his bearings and realising that they were indeed home and that he'd dosed off on the way home. "Thanks John. I guess I fell asleep, its weird how I can sleep in a car but not on the train."

"A little," John agreed as he opened his door and climbed out of the car, shivering in the cold air. With the land around so open they had no protection to speak off from the frigid wind blowing across the area, it stole the moisture off his lips. "Burr where is this wind coming from, the North Pole?"

"Probably," Alan agreed getting out and shivering himself. "Though its not helping that were not wearing really thick clothing, when we should be."

"You two thought you we're still in Florida," Scott said grinning. "You two go straight in before you catch your death of cold. I'll get your cases."

"Okay Scott," John replied heading for the front door of the farm house with Alan tagging along behind him. Scott watched them for a moment, before springing open the car boot and going to get there cases.

* * *

Alan and John both sighed in relief as they entered the warm air of the farmhouse, the solid, old stone walls banishing the cold to the world outside.

"You know John I forget how cold it gets here in winter," Alan said making a mental note to remind himself next time so he could remember to put a jumper on over his shirt.

"Me to Alan," John agreed as Grant appeared in the living room doorway. "Hi Grandpa."

"Hi Grandpa," Alan echoed.

"Hi to you to boys," Grant said moving closer and giving his two blond haired grandsons a loving hug, despite his advancing years Grant's grip was surprisingly strong.

"Where's Grandma," John asked pulling back knowing the Grandma would have come to see them by now, unless she was in the toilet. _She might have the Land Rover,_ John thought, _she'd be the one to go out somewhere like the store as Grandpa's bad heart means he can't do as much as he used to._

"She took the Land Rover into town," Grant replied. "She went into town to get some stuff for dinner tonight, you know Rose she's going to throw a special meal to celebrate us all being together again. I would have gone with her to carry all the shopping, but the doctors have forbidden me from doing that kind of lifting now, thanks to this thing." Grant tapped his chest over his heart. A heart that was slowly but surely failing him, the consequence of some of the foolish things Grant had done in his youth.

"You do still try to do too much Dad," Jeff said as he and Gordon reached the bottom of the stairs and moved to greet there newly arrived family members with warm loving hugs.

"Don't you start Jefferson," Grant replied in a mock warning tone using his son's full first name on purpose. "I get enough of that off your mother and younger model." Jeff laughed in response as did Alan, John and Gordon. They all knew full well that Grant was referring to one Scott Tracy in the last part of his statement and the fact that Scott could be so like his father that it was eerie.

As if on cue the front door opened, letting in both the aforementioned oldest Tracy son and a blast of frigid air. In each hand Scott held a suitcase while frowning at his two blond haired younger siblings. The cases were heavy, heavier than Scott would have thought they would be.

"What did you guys put in these cases," Scott asked. "Lead weights? These things weigh a ton."

"Only a few essentials Scott," John replied grinning, he was not about to reveal what himself and Alan had put in those cases along with changes of clothes. Jeff smiled and shook his head; it was obvious to him that John and Alan were hiding something from them. A glance at Scott showed he knew it to, but they both knew better than to push it. They would find out in due time anyway.

"Come on boys lets get those cases in your rooms before your grandmother gets back," Jeff said still smiling. He knew that his mother would want Alan and John semi-settled at least by the time she got back from her shopping trip.

"Okay Dad," Alan replied. Jeff smiled and led the way upstairs. Alan and John followed with Scott bringing up the rear carrying there cases.

John exchanged a smile with Alan as they followed their father up the creaky old staircase. They were both glad to be home at last with the rest of their family, now that they were all together again they could begin what was going to be a long hard journey. A journey to come to terms with the findings of the report into the accident that had killed their mother. They knew that they had to accept what had happened to provide the closure they all needed to carry on with their lives. It was going to be hard, so very hard, but they knew that they had to do it.

For there was no other choice.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Tracy Farm & Ranch**

**Sometime Later**

Virgil carefully pushed open the door to the bedroom that he was sharing with his youngest brother for the next few days. Though the Tracy farmhouse was quite large and spacious inside it didn't have enough space for them to all have their own rooms – so some of them had to double up. Not that Virgil minded having to share a room with Alan; he'd done it before on holidays when they were younger, as no one would allow Alan and Gordon to bunk together. The two youngest Tracy boys together could be trouble at any time of the day or night as both had a prankster's streak a mile wide. They were bad enough on their own but when they joined forces for a prank everyone could watch out.

Glancing around the room Virgil spotted his little brother. Alan was sat at the desk with a laptop computer open in front of him. From his posture Virgil could tell that Alan didn't like what he was reading, that it was obviously upsetting him. It had obviously distracted him as well as Alan didn't have a shirt on, though a fresh, thicker one was waiting on his bed. Virgil had a clear of his younger brother's powerful, muscular arms and chest. Though Alan was slimmer than he was, his physique shaped by Alan's love of martial arts and the need that came with martial arts to perfectly balance strength, speed, endurance and agility, he was very athletic in build, they all were though Virgil outdid all his brothers in terms of mass and brute strength.

"Alan," Virgil called out. Alan jumped, startled by the sound of his voice before turning to look at him.

"Hi, Virg," Alan said. "You gave me a bit of a fright there."

"Sorry, Al. You seemed pretty intent there. What are you reading?"

"The NTSB accident report, I've not really had chance to read it properly before now," Alan replied, his voice dark and shaking slightly with emotion. Virgil nodded in understanding; those idiot college authorities had a lot to answer for not letting Alan really read the report, forcing him to finish his work instead.

"Its not nice reading is it," he said.

"No. Especially where it says that the deaths – that mom's death – could have…" Alan's voice trailed off. His jaw quaked and his blue eyes shone and it was obvious to Virgil that Alan was struggling not to cry. It only lasted a few moments before Alan took a deep breath and seemed to pull himself together, pushing aside his grief. Virgil knew that it wouldn't last though; soon the grief would come to the surface again. Alan wouldn't be able to hide it for very long. Not even Dad could do that for very long, Virgil frequently heard his father crying softly at night in his room at the apartment they shared in New York.

"Did you want something Virgil," Alan asked, changing the subject. He didn't want to talk about this now.

"Yes. Grandma sent me up to get you," Virgil replied, giving Alan a look that said they would talk later. "Dinner's ready, she wants us all around the table before she starts serving."

"Cool I'm starving," Alan replied, standing up. "Let's get down there then."

"Not so fast Al, I think you should put something on first."

"Huh? What are you on about Virg?"

Virgil resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. For someone who was so intelligent, having been gifted with a minor genius IQ just like John, Alan could be so dense sometimes. Silently Virgil tapped the fabric of his own shirt then pointed at Alan. Alan frowned and looked down and blushed slightly as he hadn't realised he hadn't put a fresh shirt on yet. Normally walking around without a shirt on would not pose a problem, but he knew Grandma especially would frown on it here.

"Oh right," Alan said, looking up before picking up the fresh shirt he had set aside on his bed. "If Grandma saw me walking around without a shirt on she'd hit the roof."

"That she would," Virgil agreed as Alan put his shirt on did it up and made himself presentable. "Okay now we can go downstairs."

Alan grinned. "Lead on then, Virg," he said. Virgil smiled and led the way out of the room with Alan following a few paces behind him.

**

* * *

Dining Room**

Jeff sat in deep, thoughtful silence near the head of the large, old oak dining room table. They were almost all here, only waiting for Virgil to arrive with Alan. But Jeff's attention wasn't on his boys at the moment, but elsewhere. He couldn't stop thinking about the conversation that he had had earlier with his father. Particularly the suggestion Grant had made about him making sure the country and the world learned the lessons of the disaster that took away his soul mate. Learned the lessons and made the changes and improvements that were long past due.

Though he was normally reluctant to get involved in anything that was to political the idea appeal to Jeff. Appealed to his need to do something, something to make sure that the tragedy that took Lucille didn't happen again, he would use his power to do it. Yet he also knew how hard it was going to be, though he hated playing the game he was no fool where politics were concerned. He knew that it would take a lot of cajoling on his part to get the politicians to do anything but offer platitudes and promises that they would never keep. _Just how to get them all to listen,_ he thought, _listen and do something for a change. Something that will benefit all of humanity, every nation not just this one, I'll think of away. I always do._

The sound of footsteps approaching brought Jeff out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see Alan and Virgil pull up chairs and join the rest of the family. _I'm going to have to talk to the boys after, tell them what me and dad discussed,_ Jeff thought, _see what they think of the idea and if they'll all get behind me in the fight ahead. And it's not just my sons I'll need to talk to about this. I'll need to talk to Peter and the rest of Lucille's family in England; they have as big a right to be involved as the boys._

"Dad are you alright," Alan abruptly asked. Jeff jumped slightly at the sudden sound; then blinked and realised he had been getting lost in his thoughts again. He looked at his youngest son – who was giving him a look of mild concern – and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, Alan," he said warmly. "I was just thinking."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "Must have been something really important to have you just staring into space, Dad," he replied.

"It is important, Alan," Jeff answered with an enigmatic smile. "Important for the future, for our family's future."

Alan frowned in confusion and looked at his brothers to see if they knew what their father was on about. From the blank looks he got back off his brothers he could tell that they were as clueless as he was.

"What do you mean, Dad," Scott asked hoping that he would get an answer to the question that was on all their minds. He had learned long ago though that getting a straight answer out of Jeff Tracy when he didn't want to give one was harder than getting blood out of a stone. The only person who'd ever managed it had been Lucille, and even she'd fail more often than succeed. Thankfully he didn't have to worry about not getting a straight answer this time.

"I'll talk to you all about it later," Jeff said, he could see that all five of his sons were curious as to what he was planning. "I want to work out the details in my head a bit more first. Plus now is not the time or place for such a discussion."

"Indeed it is not," Rose Tracy said, coming into the dining room from the kitchen, the first two plates of steaming hot food in her hands. "Now its time for food, talking can wait until later."

"I'll second that, Grandma," Scott said grinning wolfishly at the sight and smell of food. His comment drew a round of laughter from his farther and siblings. Even Rose smiled softly, even as she put the two plates down in front of Scott and Jeff. They all knew what Scott's appetite was like; it led to many jokes about him having hollow legs.

"Thanks, Mom," Jeff said, feeling his mouth watering a little.

"Thanks, Grandma," Scott echoed. Rose smiled approvingly at the good manners being displayed before disappearing into the kitchen to get the next two plates.

After a few more short minutes all three generations of the Tracy clan were sat around the table all with steaming hot plates of food in front of them. Without any further conversation between them they started on there meals, all quietly enjoying there first meal together as a family in months.

**

* * *

Sometime Later**

Scott wandered through the farmhouse deep in thought. After dinner had ended they had all gone off in different directions. Virgil and Gordon had disappeared into the living room with their grandfather to watch a football game on the television. John was also in the living room with them, but oblivious to the world as he had his nose stuck in a book. Alan and dad had headed back upstairs. What his father and youngest brother were doing upstairs Scott had no sure idea. But he was willing to bet that his father was working on whatever it was that had been occupying his thoughts before dinner.

As he began ascending the stairs Scott thought back to that conversation. Try as he might he couldn't figure out what dad had been on about. _What idea does he have for the future,_ Scott thought, trying to make some sense of their father's enigmatic responses when they'd questioned him. _Is it somehow connected to the NTSB report into the accident that killed mom?_

Reaching the top of the stairs Scott sighed and shrugged, trying to dismiss the thoughts from his mind for now at least. He knew that when their father was ready to tell them what he was thinking about or planning he would do so. Until then they would have to endure a very frustrating waiting game, a game that would not be easy on any of them.

At that moment a soft sound, like the faint sound of a sob, reached Scott's ears and he froze in place to listen so he could locate the sound. He knew it wouldn't be Jeff crying, he rarely did that now though they all knew he was still pining for their mother that left one of his siblings. Years of practice listening in the night for his younger brothers so they didn't unnecessarily disturb their parents had left Scott with the unique ability to recognise any of them by even the smallest of sounds. When another soft sob reached him Scott was immediately able to determine that it was coming from Alan.

Instantly concerned for his youngest brother Scott made a beeline for the bedroom that Alan and Virgil were sharing. Pushing open the door Scott saw that Alan was sitting at the computer reading something, something that was obviously upsetting him. Even from the doorway Scott could clearly see a single silvery tear escape the corner of Alan's right eye and make its way down his one cheek. Alan sobbed slightly again and Scott noticed that his jaw was visibly shaking, it was immediately obvious to him that Alan was struggling not to cry, trying to hold in his emotions.

"Alan," he said softly, hoping to get his brothers attention, even as he started walking over to him. Alan did not reply, or even show the slightest sign of having heard him. It was a worrying sign. Like John and Virgil, Alan had very sharp hearing Scott knew Alan should have heard him. The fact that he hadn't filled Scott with even more concern as it meant Alan was seriously disturbed and distracted by whatever he was reading.

Stopping behind his youngest brother Scott looked at the computer screen and understanding came. Scott recognised the displayed text as the last few paragraphs of the NTSB accident report, the part that detailed the final conclusions and recommendations to address them. Recommendations that Scott knew very unlikely to be acted upon by the government, these days such things were rarely if ever acted upon properly. Scott knew the government would make token changes designed to shut the media up but that was all they would do.

"Alan," Scott said, reaching out and putting a hand on one of Alan's strong shoulders.

What happened next was almost to fast for Scott's eye to follow; the moment his hand touched Alan's shoulder Alan yelped in surprise and alarm before exploding into motion with all the speed and power of striking snake. Leaping to his feet Alan spun around and landed a powerful tae kwon do kick to Scott's left side. The force of the blow knocked Scott back and to the side, depositing him on Alan's bed even as pain from bruised muscles exploded along Scott's left side ripping the breath from his lungs while simultaneously drawing a cry of pain from his lips.

At the sound of Scott's cry Alan blinked and suddenly realised exactly what had just happened. What he had just done to his oldest brother. Guilt and shame filled him, he had always promised himself that he wouldn't use the combat skills gained from the various martial arts he practiced on his siblings. Yet now he'd gone and done just that, it didn't matter that he had acted without thinking, having been so lost in his own thoughts and feelings that he'd struck out reflexively. He had hurt one of his brothers and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for that.

"Scott," he said racing over to help his brother, who was just starting to get his breath back. "Oh man I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Its okay, Alan," Scott said, interrupting his little brother. He could tell that Alan felt genuinely terrible about what had just happened. "You have nothing to apologise for," he continued in a soothing tone of voice even as he sat up ignoring his throbbing side. "It was my fault for startling you."

"That doesn't excuse what I did," Alan objected.

"Yes it does. You were really distracted when I came in here, I should have known better than to put my hand on your shoulder like that," Scott replied standing. "Besides I'm not really hurt, just bruised and that will fade in due time, especially if I put some healing gel from the first aid kit on it. Don't beat yourself up over this, Alan. Promise me that you wont, we all have enough worries at the moment."

"But…"

"But nothing, promise me."

Alan sighed and looked at Scott. For a few moments two sets of expressive blue eyes met and held each others gaze in a silent, familiar battle of wills. The oldest and youngest Tracy sons got along most of the time, but occasionally they did have differences of opinion and usually resolved them by staring each other down. This time it was Alan who broke the gaze first, submitting to Scott this time at least.

"I promise," he said at last, drawing a smile from Scott.

"Good. Now tell me what is the matter? What was bothering you so much when I came in? Was it the NTSB accident report?"

"Yes," Alan admitted, drawing in a shaking breath. "I've just finished going through it, its not nice reading."

"No it isn't, in fact it's downright hard, depressing reading."

"Tell me something I don't know. The hardest part though is this bit at the end, and knowing that the deaths, that mom's death could have been," Alan paused for a moment as tears welled in his eyes and started seeping down his cheeks, "should have been prevented. Mom would have still been here if they'd only…" his voice trailed off and he emitted a racking sob as his tears grew worse.

Seeing the inevitable beginning to happen with his youngest sibling Scott reached out and pulled Alan into a hug as he finally broke down, all the emotional dams inside him breaking apart allowing all the pain and grief to show.

"It's just so unfair," Alan sobbed into his brother's shoulder, while wrapping his arms around Scott. "Why? Why did she have to die? Why did anyone have to die? Why can't they fund emergency services properly?"

"I can't answer those questions, Alan. I really can't and wish I could," Scott replied, feeling his own tears beginning to fall. He did nothing to hold them back, not that he would have been able to at the moment, especially as despite his words to Alan he knew some of the answers as to why emergency services were so chronically under funded. In fact he was privately sure that Alan knew as well, his youngest brother was neither stupid nor naïve about how things were in the world these days.

"The NTSB say in their recommendations that funding for emergency services needs to be drastically increased," Alan said between sobs. "But we both know that government won't do it, they are too preoccupied with other _priorities._ They won't do anything, not really."

"Yes they will, Alan," Jeff's voice said abruptly, making both Alan and Scott jump. "Especially if I have any say in the matter."

* * *

Jeff had been heading downstairs to get a drink before he started working out what he was going to tell his boys when he'd faintly heard the sound of voices coming Alan and Virgil's room. He also clearly heard faint sobbing coming from the room, the sound of somebody crying.

Instantly concerned for his sons he had changed direction and headed to the room. Standing in the doorway he saw that it was Alan and Scott who were present. Alan was clinging onto his oldest brother, crying his eyes out and Scott didn't look that much better. Jeff could clearly see tears streaking down Scott's own cheeks, his eldest own anguish at their mothers needless death showing through.

He was about to withdraw quietly to give them some privacy when he heard Alan's anguished words between sobbing about how nothing would be done, not really. He couldn't help but flinch at the bitterness and anger he heard in those words and before he even realised what he was doing he was speaking himself.

"Yes they will, Alan," he said, and despite the situation inwardly smiled when both boys jumped. "Especially if I have any say in the matter," he continued as both Alan and Scott turned to look at him.

"What do you mean, Dad," Scott asked, with a slight sniffle as his tears subsided slightly.

"What I mean, Scott is that the government is not going to get away with making token changes then sweeping the report under the carpet," Jeff replied, a steely note of determination in his voice that contrasted sharply with the pain and grief visible in his eyes. "Not this time, no government on this planet is going to this time, this chronic under funding is a global problem, a global disgrace. It is long past time for it to be dealt with once and for all."

"What are you thinking, Dad," Scott asked, knowing instantly that there father was planning something, something that was based as much on his own sense of honour and justice as the anguish and rage he felt at the needless death of Lucille Tracy. For a moment Jeff Tracy did not respond, he knew then and there that the time had come to tell his boys what was on his mind. It was sooner than he had intended but one look at the faces of Scott and Alan, at the naked anguish he could see there convinced Jeff that now was the time.

"Before I answer that, Scott I would like you to go downstairs and get your brothers," Jeff said at last. "Bring them to my room; we all need to talk about this. There is something that I need to tell you all, something I need to get all of your opinions on as it involves all of you as much as it involves me."

For a moment Scott was silent letting his father's words echo in his mind. It occurred to him there that something truly momentous was in the works with his father. "Okay, Dad," he answered at last before quickly leaving his room to fetch his other three siblings from the living room.

Alan watched Scott leave the room, before sitting down on the edge of his bed and looking at his father accessingly. Despite the pain and emotional torment that was still burning strongly inside of him he could tell that his dad was planning something big, very big. Something that could change all of their lives forever be it for better or worse.

"What are you planning, Dad," he asked his voice rough and weak as his throat was raw from crying.

"You'll see, Alan," Jeff replied with an enigmatic smile. "You'll see."


End file.
